


prettiest star

by ohmcgee



Series: ohmcgee's mallverse [6]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Retail, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, disturbing dolphin facts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 03:41:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4591644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/pseuds/ohmcgee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Do you think I should be a mermaid?”</i>
  <br/>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	prettiest star

“Do you think,” Tim says, wiggling his toes. His tongue feels weird in his mouth, like it’s too long or too wet, and his legs don’t feel right, don’t feel like legs should feel. “Do you think I should be a mermaid?”

He and Roy are laying on the carpet on their backs, watching the ceiling fan go around and around until it looks like it’s staying still but still somehow moving, hands between their bodies, fingertips touching. 

Roy giggles, rolls onto his side and presses his nose into Tim’s shoulder and Tim rolls to his side too, touches the cluster of freckles on Roy's collarbone with his other hand, reaches up and fumbles around on the coffee table until he finds Tim’s green sharpie. “Delphinus,” he says, connecting the dots. “Brightest star, Rotanev.”

“Do you think you’d remember to breathe if you didn’t, you know, just do it?” Tim asks when he's done drawing on Roy.

“No way,” Roy says. There are rainbows coming out of his mouth when he exhales and sometimes Tim’s words pop up like little comic book speech bubbles, but he can still follow Tim’s train of thought like it’s his own. “I’d totally die.”

“If we were dolphins,” Tim says. “I’d remind you to breathe.”

Roy swallows. His throat is so fucking dry but he’s pretty sure they’re not in the apartment anymore, just floating out in the middle of the galaxy on a square of cheap, cheeto and kool-aid stained carpet. Like a fucked up Aladdin and Jasmine. He hums a few bars of _A Whole New World_ , then says, “You know they have retractable penises?”

“I’m going to get a dolphin tattoo,” Tim says, touching his belly button and Roy thinks about his half sister, how she got one of those dolphin ying-yang tattoos when she turned eighteen and got knocked up three months later and it blew up the same way she did and looked like two beluga whales fucking.

“With a retractable penis?” Roy asks. “It swivels.”

“Tramp,” Tim says and scratches at the nail polish on Roy’s thumb.

They go quiet for a little while after that, or a long while because the apartment is dark instead of light the next time Tim opens his eyes, then Roy becomes convinced that the carpet has turned into thousands of tiny ants that are trying to carry him away and Tim calms him down by telling him he once gave Paul Rudd a handjob in a Whataburger. 

“We don’t have Whataburger’s here,” Roy murmurs before he flops back over, the ants forgotten, his fingers still laced in Tim’s. 

 

***

 

Dick finds them three hours later when he gets off of work. They made it to the couch at some point and Tim’s spooning Roy, wearing a pair of cat ears and nothing else. Roy’s wearing a lacy bra that Dick’s pretty sure some chick left in his bathroom last weekend, a pair of Tim’s boxers, and he’s got indecipherable scribbles all over him in green sharpie, _TIM_ written on the bottom of his foot in red. 

“Fuck, man,” Roy says when he sits up, picking pixie stick wrappers out of his hair. “What the hell did we take?”

Tim scratches his ass, peels off a couple of silver stick on rhinestones and flicks them at Roy. “Don’t remember,” he says. “Why?”

“Because,” Roy says. “We _gotta_ do that again.”


End file.
